


Better to Reign in Hell

by vogue91



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Introspection, M/M, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-07
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-28 05:13:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13897002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vogue91/pseuds/vogue91
Summary: It didn’t matter that it was Michael, it would’ve been his body anyway, and he would’ve been locked up in a corner of his mind to watch his hands destroying everything he had always tried to protect.





	Better to Reign in Hell

Dean wished he could’ve told him.

He wished he could’ve told him that it wasn’t necessary to drag him back from Hell, if that meant claiming the right to play with his life.

He wished he could’ve told him that he would’ve been willing to stay there, drowning in flames to humiliate himself for all he had done in life, to torture those souls as if he actually didn’t care at all, he wished he could’ve told him that it wouldn’t have been a price too high for what they were asking him to do.

It didn’t matter that it was Michael, it would’ve been his body anyway, and he would’ve been locked up in a corner of his mind to watch his hands destroying everything he had always tried to protect.

He wished he could’ve told Castiel that he fought on the wrong side, but somehow he felt that inside the angel could hear the doubts, that he was starting to distance from what he had always believed in, from that Father whose presence he couldn’t feel anymore.

He wished he could’ve done that, but it was destined to remain an unexpressed desire.

Because looking at the angel, seeing that shadow in his eyes and that tormented look on his face, had made him realize that he couldn’t really get mad at him.

Dean had already hurt enough people. He couldn’t allow himself anything more, he couldn’t mutilate further a soul already maimed, just because his frustration had reached such unbearable limits.

He rested a hand on his shoulder, and the angel didn’t even turn to look at him.

He never did it anyway.

And Dean sighed.

And he hoped that when the moment would’ve come he could’ve been next to him, telling him that he was too much of an expert on absent fathers, telling him that he had other options, that he could rebel, that he could do the right thing.

This was his one desire, for there was nothing else to want, not then.

And he could only hope that, when that would’ve happened, Castiel would’ve listened to him.


End file.
